


Broomflight

by mad_martha



Series: Two Households [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-28
Updated: 2011-05-28
Packaged: 2017-10-19 20:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_martha/pseuds/mad_martha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably.  "She hated him!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broomflight

     "How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably.  "She hated him!"

     "Nah, she didn't," said Sirius.

     "She started going out with him in seventh year," said Lupin.

     "Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.

 _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_ (page 591, UK edition)

 

\---------------------------

 

 _"You!"_ Lily Evans hissed, appalled.  "What are you doing here?  What do you want?"

James Potter grinned at her engagingly, quite unabashed by this greeting.  "Hullo Evans!  Having a good summer?"

Lily eased around the edge of the door, praying none of her family had heard his knock, and shut it behind her.  She glared at him from the top step.

"Potter, you insufferable creep, what do you want?" she demanded.  "More to the point, how did you find out where I live?"

"Oh, come now - is that any way for the new Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to speak to the Head Boy?"

Oh no.  He couldn't be.  The Headmaster was openly referred to as "quite mad" by many of the pupils, but even he wouldn't - would he?  Unless ….

She folded her arms and gave him a withering smile.  "Inflating your own head again, Potter?  You can't possibly know who the Head Boy and Girl will be, because the letters haven't been sent out yet."

James raised his brows and pulled a crumpled parchment envelope out of his jeans pocket.  At least, she noted, he was wearing appropriate clothing for a Muggle residential area.

"Haven't you had yours?" he asked, unfolding the letter.  "Mine arrived this morning."

Lily's mouth dried up, for along with the letter a shiny badge with the words "Head Boy" enamelled on it fell into his hand.  Then she frowned.  "No, I - "  Enlightenment, in the form of her sister's expression of smug malice at the breakfast table that morning, dawned.  "Petunia!"

She whirled and flung herself back through the front door without a second glance at him.  The door slammed shut in his face.

"Well, that went pretty much as expected," James muttered to himself.  He glanced to his right, towards the end of the road.  Sirius was loitering under an oak tree there, grinning offensively at his friend.  James flipped a finger at him and Sirius disappeared.  He decided to try the knocker again.

This time the door was opened by a man in his mid-forties.  His expression was mild, but James noted a glint of amusement in his eyes as he surveyed the stranger.  This had to be Lily's father; the resemblance was remarkable.

"Can I help you?"

No one could ever accuse James of lacking in courage.  Pinning on a friendly smile, he offered his hand.  "Mr. Evans?  I'm James Potter - I'm in the same year as your daughter at school.  Perhaps she's mentioned me?"

The look of amusement increased but Mr. Evans shook hands quite cordially.  "As it happens, she has.  Why don't you come in?  It's not often we get to meet Lily's school-friends."

There was no mistaking that expression; James was willing to bet his life on Lily's father having as wicked a sense of humour as any of his own friends.  He relaxed a little, liking the older man immediately, and gave him a rueful grin as he politely wiped his shoes on the mat. 

" _Has_ she mentioned me, sir?"

"Oh yes," Mr. Evans nodded.  "On a number of occasions."

"Nothing good, I'll bet," James grinned.

"Well, that's Lily."  Mr. Evans looked up the staircase.  Sounds of a lively quarrel were drifting down from the upper storey.  "Lily!  You have a visitor!"  There was a sudden plummeting silence.  Mr. Evans smiled to himself and turned back to James.  "She'll be down in a minute.  Come through to the garden!"

As he followed the other man through the house, trying hard not to stare at all the unfamiliar Muggle objects and furnishings, James couldn't help feeling just a touch smug about this development.  Sirius had rudely predicted that if Evans herself didn't send him packing, her parents would.  This was quite a coup.

There was a neat little patio area behind the house, with a table and chairs.  There was no one else around; James wondered briefly where Mrs. Evans was, but privately was rather glad she wasn't there.  He had a sneaking feeling that she wouldn't be quite so accepting of him as Lily's father.  Mr. Evans invited him to sit down and regarded him for a moment.

"So, James Potter, you're a wizard, are you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Family all wizards?"

"Yes, sir - thirteen generations!"  James was proud of his family heritage, but decided to hold back from saying any more.  He was sure Lily had informed her family of the tensions between pureblood families and those who were less strict, and didn't want to make a bad impression. 

Mr. Evans's brows went up.  "Remarkable!  And what do wizards with long family trees do with themselves?"

James cocked his head questioningly.  "Me or my father, sir?"

"Both, I suppose."

"My father's a diplomat - with the Ministry of Magic.  But I'm hoping to play Quidditch professionally."

"Yes, Lily mentioned that in passing too."  Mr. Evans picked up a pouch of tobacco from the table and began to fill a pipe.  "That's fine for a few years, I'm sure, but if it's anything like ordinary sports, you'll end up retiring by the time you're thirty.  Or isn't Quidditch like that?  I freely admit my ignorance on the subject.  My daughter tried to explain it to me a few times, but without having actually seen it I can't say I understand the concepts involved at all."

Thirty seemed like a million years away from James at that point.  He couldn't even imagine it; it was hard enough to imagine leaving school in less than a year's time.  But he knew a lot about professional Quidditch and knew that Mr. Evans's observation was a just one - and one moreover that his own father had voiced. 

"I'm not putting all my eggs into one basket," he assured the older man.  "I promised my father I'd take the Ministry entrance exam as well."

"It's always helpful to have a second string to your bow," Mr. Evans agreed.  "Lily talks about something she calls "curse-breaking", for a bank.  Have I got that right?"

"Yes - for Gringotts.  That's quite a prestigious job."  And wasn't that an eye-opener?  James hadn't had any particular thoughts on what Lily would do when she left school, but curse-breaking wouldn't have been high on his list in any case.  That was the kind of thing Sirius was considering.

There were footsteps and Lily appeared on the patio, carrying her letter.  She didn't look best pleased to see James having a tête-à-tête with her father, but she forced a pleasant smile as he politely stood up.  Then another girl appeared behind her - older, taller, with long blonde hair and a sharp expression.  Her eyes flicked over James at once and her lip curled, making her look remarkably like Severus Snape.

"Not another freak!" she remarked, and there was a note of shrill malice in her voice as her eyes went to her sister.

James's eyes widened in astonishment.  Lily turned a bright, mortified crimson and the good humour fled from her father's eyes. 

"Petunia!" he snapped, but she had already turned on her heel and retreated.

Mr. Evans stood up and surveyed James.  "Forgive Petunia's rudeness," he said.  "I'd better have a word with her …."  He offered his hand to James.  "Good to meet you, James - at long last."  The wicked glint was back in his eyes as he glanced at Lily. 

James swallowed a grin.  "Good to meet you too, Mr. Evans."

"Hm.  I do hope you're planning to take Lily out for the afternoon.  She spends too much time with her books."  And giving his daughter a valedictory pat on the shoulder, Mr. Evans nodded to the pair of them and disappeared back into the house.

James looked at Lily.  She was clearly torn between indignation at him forcing himself into her father's good graces and lingering embarrassment at her sister's behaviour.

"I like your father," he offered.  "He seems really nice."

"Too kind!" Lily said, with awful sarcasm.

"And I'm sure your sister's a lovely person once you get to know her."

There was a pause, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.  "She's a miserable hag, Potter - you don't have to be nice about it."

He grinned.  This was definitely looking promising.  "Not a _hag_ , Evans.  I mean, she's quite pretty … even if she does have eyes like a Dementor."

Lily's own, bright green eyes widened.  "A what?"

"Dementor."  He reddened slightly.  "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.  They guard Azkaban - you know, the wizard prison."

"No, I didn't know."  For a moment curiosity replaced annoyance.  "I didn't even know there _was_ a wizard prison.  Where is it?"

"On an island in the North Sea.  It's pretty bleak, and the Dementors make it worse.  They … well, they sort of feed off your feelings, leaving nothing but terrible memories in your mind.  And they can suck out your soul."

"Oh."  Lily frowned.  "They weren't in my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_."

"They wouldn't be."  James's tone was slightly dry.  "It's like goblins and house-elves - you can't really classify someone you hire as a beast, can you?"

The glare reappeared.  "Typical wizard bigotry," Lily stated, as though he was personally responsible.  "I think it's disgusting!"

"Hey, I didn't say I agreed with it!  It's just the way it is.  Besides, Dementors _should_ be classified as beasts - foul things."  James hastily changed the subject.  "So, did you get your letter?"

"Yes."  Lily reluctantly broke the seal and opened the letter.  Another gold badge fell out, this one with the words "Head Girl" in enamel. 

James nobly resisted the urge to gloat, but pinned on an innocent smile as she sent another blistering glare in his direction.  There was a long pause as she read her letter, and by the end she was looking resigned, which was at least a marginal improvement.

"We're advised to meet up before term starts and discuss how we plan to run the show this year," she stated, folding her letter and putting it back into the envelope.  "Is that what this is?  A meeting to discuss prefects and first years?"

"And to get to know each other better, seeing as we'll obviously be working together closely over the coming year."  He gave her a virtuous look and the glare returned at once.

"What I want to know, Potter, is how _you_ ever managed to be picked as a prefect when your friend Lupin resigned last year!  He's worth ten of you."

James was a little hurt.  He was perfectly willing to go along with her assessment of Remus, but something in the way she said the words made them sting unexpectedly.  He knew he owed his position as prefect the previous year entirely to the incident at the Whomping Willow, but he'd made a real effort to reform himself and retrieve his reputation.  He'd even reined in Sirius - not that it had been difficult, for even _he'd_ been chastened by that same incident and settled down somewhat.  They'd both concentrated on their studies and Quidditch and the number of 'incidents' perpetrated by the Marauders had dropped drastically, the four of them contenting themselves with the monthly full moon excursion.

Not that he could tell Lily Evans that.

"You'd have to ask Remus about that," he said flatly.  "It's his business.  But I can assure you that I have every intention of being a model Head Boy this year."

She was unappeased.  " _That_ I have to see."

There was another long silence, which she was obviously in no hurry to break.  Finally James sighed. 

"So …."

She raised a brow.  He persevered.

"Since I have your father's permission - want to go for an ice cream?"

The brow rose a little higher.  "Why, do you have a supply of Muggle money with you?"

He frowned.  "I was thinking of Florean Fortescue's, actually."

"It may have escaped your notice, but we happen to be many miles from Diagon Alley here," Lily pointed out dryly.

"So we'll Apparate."

"I don't have my licence yet." 

James frowned.  "Why not?  You're seventeen, aren't you?"  He knew she was.  He'd sent her a tasteful birthday present which, arriving as it did at the school breakfast table and in front of all her friends, she hadn't been able to return without looking utterly ungracious.  Which was, of course, exactly what he'd intended.

She was beginning to get angry, a state which admittedly suited her, giving her face colour and fire in her eyes.  "I haven't had a chance to take the test yet!  I don't have easy access to Diagon Alley like you do, Potter, we're not on the Floo network and my parents have to drive me - "

He rolled his eyes impatiently.  "I get the picture!  Don't go anywhere - I'll only be a minute."

And he disappeared, leaving Lily to stare indignantly at the spot where he'd been standing.

A little under ten minutes later, he reappeared with a _pop!_ , wearing an open-fronted robe over his jeans and carrying his broomstick. 

"Oh no," Lily said, eyeing it with misgivings.  "No, Potter, absolutely not."

"Would it kill you to use my given name?" he asked.

"We'll be seen!" she hissed, ignoring the question.

"No, we won't."  James pulled something out of the pocket of his robe - a long, silvery-looking cloak.  "I'm going to trust you with a secret, _Lily_."  And he tossed the cloak over his head.

He vanished and if Lily hadn't already been half-expecting something like this, she would have cried out.  Even so, it was a considerable surprise.  She had heard of Invisibility Cloaks, of course, but everything she'd read or been told gave her to believe that they were very rare and very expensive.  Not that the latter detail would be a problem for the famously rich Potter family.

"Well, that explains a lot," she remarked, and folded her arms.  There was no reply and after a moment or two she began to fidget nervously.  "Potter?  Are you still here?  Come on, this isn't funny."  Silence.  She bit her lip and hoped she wasn't about to make a big mistake.  "James?"

Someone blew down the neck of her dress, making her jump.

"Actually," James said, re-emerging from under the cloak, "it's hilariously funny."  He grinned at her and sidled up to her shoulder.  "Good - you're quite a bit shorter than me.  This should just about cover both of us for as long as we need it to."  He looked wistful.  "Pity you're not up for any fun and frisk.  It's nearly impossible to use this cloak for anything decent now that Sirius is so tall, and it's no good expecting Peter to do anything really wild.  He's too scared."

Lily experienced an irrational impulse to commiserate, which she squashed firmly, even though it was rather galling to be automatically dismissed as not being up for anything 'wild'.  Which was ridiculous.  She was the Head Girl and there would be nothing wild going on, least of all with James Bighead Potter.

"And Lupin won't do?" she found herself asking.

James gave her an odd grin.  "He only goes if Sirius does."

That seemed like a strange thing for him to say.  Remus Lupin had never seemed particularly easily led to Lily, and least of all by Sirius Black.  On the other hand he was definitely a part of the 'gang' and while he might be an entirely more sober character, he was usually there when the other three inevitably got themselves into trouble.

"Anyway, there hasn't been room for all of us under this thing since we were kids," he continued briskly, and he tossed the cloak around them both.  "Brilliant.  This'll do until we get to Diagon Alley."

"I'm not getting on that broom with you, Potter," she protested.  "Brooms aren't made for two people and I'm a hopeless flyer - "

"There's _plenty_ of room for two people," he interrupted, "and all you have to do is hang onto me.  You don't seriously think I'd drop you in mid-air, do you?"

He looked highly insulted and Lily wavered, for even she didn't have the nerve to suggest such a thing of the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.  James Potter was universally acknowledged to be a natural and reputedly several Quidditch teams were only holding back on signing him now because his father wouldn't countenance interference in his studies for his NEWTs.

She scrambled for something to say, but could only come up with a weak: "All this for an ice cream?"

"No!" he said, exasperated.  "All this so that you can take your Apparition test and spend the rest of the summer going where you like, when you like!"

Oh.  "But I don't have an appointment."

"You don't need one.  Unless something goes hideously wrong, it only takes about twenty minutes."  Now it was his turn to glare.  "Any more arguments?  Or shall we get a move on, before the Apparition Office closes?"

"Is there room for you to take off from here?"

James looked at the neat little garden and huffed a breath.  If it had been just him, he would have done it.  But she was right; with a passenger he would need more room for a safe take-off. 

"Okay, there's a spot at the bottom of the road - lots of trees screening some open ground."  And before she could say anything, he wrapped the cloak around the broom, making it vanish.  He looked at her and cocked his head to one side.  "You might want to bring a robe.  And your handbag, I suppose."

When she ran downstairs again Potter was standing in the hallway, giving her sneering sister a blandly amiable smile.




"Don't you have better things to do?" Lily asked her crossly.  "Like sharpening your fangs?"

"I'm not the freak around here!" Petunia snapped back.  "I suppose this creep is your new _boyfriend_.  And you'll end up marrying him and breeding even more freaks - "

"Yes, but not today," James said, before Lily could say anything.  "We're a bit busy today.  Maybe tomorrow we'll have time for freak-breeding."  He smiled at her and offered his hand.  "So nice to have met you!"

For a moment it looked like Petunia might spit at him; she recoiled, pointedly drawing away from his outstretched hand.  "Don't touch me!  I don't want to catch anything."

"Petunia!" Lily gasped, but James only laughed.

"I wish Sirius could hear that," he said as they walked down the pavement.  "It confirms everything his family say about Muggles."

"It's not funny," Lily muttered.  "I told you, she's a _hag_."

"I don't suppose she can help it," he replied generously.  "Besides, it's an interesting experience.  Now I know what it's like."

She gave him an odd look.  "What do you mean?"

He smiled at her.  "Being called a Mudblood."

Lily didn't know what to say to that, so she remained silent until they reached the end of the road and ducked into the trees.

"Now what?" she asked quietly.  The patch of open ground behind the trees was currently occupied by a group of small boys playing football.

James unwrapped the Invisibility Cloak from his broom and held the latter out in mid-air.  "Up," he instructed it calmly.

The broom hovered obediently at mounting height.  This wasn't his more temperamental Nimbus 1100, which he kept solely for Quidditch, but a Comet Cloudsweeper, which was an older and more reliable long-distance broom.  It wouldn't try to buck Lily off if it sensed she was nervous.

James swung a leg over it and settled himself, tucking his toes up behind him easily.  He nodded to Lily.  "Hop on, grab hold of me and hook your feet on the foot-rests."

Feeling queasy and doubtful, she obeyed.  It wasn't easy.  She had no natural balance for this sort of thing and hadn't been lying when she said she was a bad flyer.  She always expected the broom to move, roll over or fall from under her.  But she managed it, although she ended up sitting far closer to him than she liked, with her hands on his shoulders.  James rolled his eyes and reached behind him, grabbing her arms and firmly transferring them to his middle.

"Believe me, it's safer this way," he told her.  He flicked out the Invisibility Cloak and swung it around the two of them.  It took a couple of attempts, plus a Fixing Charm, but it finally covered the two of them - just - and the broom.  "Right," he said softly.  "Hold tight - "

And he urged the broom into motion.

If it had just been him on the broom - or him and Sirius, or either of the other Marauders - he'd have enjoyed whipping through the trees at a clipping pace, testing his reflexes.  But with Lily on the back, and very aware of her nervous grip, James guided the broom carefully out of the trees.  He skirted around the edge of the field, avoiding the oblivious children, and tilted the broom back, gaining height.  As soon as he was sure he was clear of the rooftops and all the wires Muggles seemed to string between their houses, he poured on the speed. 

Lily didn't actually squeak, but he felt her twitch and her grip tightened around his middle.  Sirius would have snorted dismissively and said _Muggleborns!_ in a scathing tone, but James was inclined to be easier on her.  He found it hard to understand how anyone could be afraid of flying (even Peter could fly to a reasonable standard) but it was hardly Lily's fault that she hadn't climbed onto a broom until she was eleven.  And she'd promptly fallen off again, as he remembered.  His lips twitched with amusement.

It was a fair flight to London, and they didn't reach Charing Cross Road until late afternoon.  James steered into a convenient back alley and kept the broom at an easy height while Lily scrambled off awkwardly.  She was stiff from the journey, and a little cold, but made no complaints.

"All right?" he asked her, as he tucked the cloak away inside his robe.

She nodded.  "Just not used to flying for that long."

"You need to practice, that's all."

Lily sighed.  "Yes, well, a broom of my own is something else I don't have, Potter."

"James," he corrected her.  He considered the information she had just given him; he had half a dozen brooms of varying ages, but he supposed it was too soon to offer to lend her one.  Besides, he got the impression that she didn't really want to learn.  He thought he could change that, given an opportunity, but not just then so he shrugged inwardly and checked his watch instead.  "Let's get to the Apparition Office - they'll be closing in an hour."

Diagon Alley was still quite busy, and Lily eyed the shops wistfully as they hurried past.  She only got to come here once a year, and it was always a tremendous rush, fighting against hordes of other Hogwarts pupils and their parents as they all hurried to buy new books, robes and supplies for the coming year.

"If you pass your test today, you can always come back," James said in her ear, and the idea was such a novel one that she actually smiled at him.

The Apparition Office was a dingy little annexe to the Ministry building that reminded Lily strongly of the Victorian offices of her Muggle primary school.  The wooden floor was very worn and dusty, and the man behind the desk had immense side whiskers.  He sniffed irritably as they presented themselves - probably due to the lateness of the hour - and directed Lily through a side door, leaving James to twiddle his thumbs for the bare twenty minutes the written theory questionnaire and rapid-fire practical examination took.  Lily travelled further around the British Isles in five minutes than she'd done in her entire life.

But when she emerged again, elated, unaccountably exhausted and clutching a safety leaflet in her left hand, she had passed with flying colours and it was James who cheerfully flicked three Galleons onto the desk to pay for her official licence.  When she would have paid him back, he waved her off.

"Present!"

"No, you can't - it's a lot of money!"

"Nah, it isn't," he said casually, effectively silencing her.  "Ice cream?"

The gulf between them seemed to yawn open again as Lily silently followed him back up Diagon Alley to Florean Fortescue's.  He insisted on paying for the ice creams as well, and her discomfort increased; if it hadn't been such a public place, she would have argued more vehemently.

"What's the matter?" James asked finally, when she'd silently picked at her immense peanut butter and peach ripple sundae for more than ten minutes.

"You," she said bluntly.  "You throw money around like it's nothing."

He stared at her, perplexed.  "I might be an _insufferable creep_ ," he said pointedly, "and I might even be a freak like your sister says - " she made an inarticulate sound of denial, "but I was raised properly and a bloke doesn't take a girl out and expect her to pay for her own ice cream.  My father would probably disown me if I did."

"It's not the ice cream.  You paid for my Apparition Licence and - "

"Did you have the three Galleons?" he interrupted.

"Yes!"  Lily fumbled with her purse.  Well … yes.  She did have three Galleons.  But she didn't get a lot of pocket-money and the licence fee on top of all her school supplies for the following year would probably leave her with uncomfortably little change to spend in Hogsmeade over the coming term.

That was irrelevant.  She couldn't allow another pupil to pay for her licence when she had the money to pay for it herself, and she held out the three Galleons to James stubbornly.  He sighed and closed her fingers over the coins, pushing her hand away. 

"Don't be silly!"

"I'm not being silly!" she flared at him and held the coins out again.  "Take it, please!"

" _No_ , Lily!  Look, why are you making such a fuss?  It's three Galleons, not the entire Ministry budget for St. Mungo's.  It was a present, that's all - you're supposed to say thank you and forget about it!"

"You have no reason to give me presents, Potter - "

"James, it's _James_."

" - it's not like I'm your girlfriend and - "

"Everything all right here?" a jovial voice asked and Florean Fortescue himself loomed over their table.

Lily was abruptly silenced, her face flaming, but James cast an harassed look at the café owner in a silent plea for help.  Fortescue winked and leaned forward, tapping Lily's sundae glass with his wand to revive the wilting ice cream.

"This isn't what I like to see," he told her in gentle reproof.  "You'll give my sundaes a bad name, treating them like this!"  Her colour deepened but she said nothing.  He turned to James and tapped his sundae glass, which promptly refilled itself with chocolate ripple ice cream.  Fortescue clapped him on the shoulder and murmured "Courage!" before drifting away again.

"He gave you that for _free_ ," Lily said, staring at his glass.

"He does that sometimes," James retorted.  "People do, you know - give people things for free.  It's usually considered a friendly gesture!"

He was a little surprised when she mumbled "Sorry" and put the contentious Galleons back in her purse.  Then she picked up her spoon and dug into the ice cream.

"It's okay," he muttered, and cast around for a neutral topic of conversation, before their mutual embarrassment could ruin everything.  He remembered the school letters and pulled his out of his pocket again.  "Look, want to talk first year management strategy?"

She nodded in relief and for the next half an hour they talked about prefect deployment, management of heavy-handed Slytherin prefects, organisation of first years and, as James was the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, arrangement of prefect meetings to try and avoid clashes.  James resigned himself to there being a few anyway; after all, there were three other teams to be taken into account, each with prefects on them who would want to avoid missing both meetings and practices.

"Am I going to get any time to revise for my NEWTs in all this?" he asked at the end, only half-joking as he looked at the mauled sheet of parchment they had produced.  More to the point, there was the question of whether any of these arrangements would interfere with the full moon, but there wasn't much he could do about that here and now.

Looking up into Lily's clear green eyes, he was suddenly seized by an impulse to tell her about the necessity of being free on a full moon and why.  She seemed an open-minded person about such things - surely she would understand and be sympathetic towards Remus?  He stopped himself just in time.  The full moon wasn't his secret to tell, it was Remus's; and Remus's life was at stake if the wrong person found out.  The Whomping Willow incident had taught him that, if nothing else.

Besides, he didn't really know her that well.  It wasn't as if she was even his girlfriend.

The second overwhelming impulse sneaked up on him and blurted itself out before he could stop it.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Lily's eyes widened in astonishment.

Oh no.  James instantly wished the ground would swallow him up and could only be grateful that Sirius wasn't there to laugh himself into stitches over his best friend's total lack of cool.  _Do you want to be my girlfriend?_   How pathetic, how juvenile, was that?  What next?  Shuffling his feet and offering her a bite of his Chocolate Frog?

Something of his feelings must have been obvious in his face, for she burst into unexpected giggles.  He snorted and sat back, chucking his quill on the table.

"Oh yeah," he said wryly, "I'm _suave_."

"You should have tried that line on Petunia," Lily said, when she got her breath back.  Her eyes were still sparkling with laughter.  "It would have shut her up if nothing else!"

James grinned back at her.  "Yeah, but what would I have done if she'd said yes?"

"Got your friends to help you wriggle out of it, probably."  She picked up the sheet of parchment and wrinkled her nose at it.  "Shall I write this up properly and owl you a copy?"

That seemed to herald the end of their meeting.  James agreed to her suggestion and watched as she tucked the paper away in her robes.  She picked up her purse and they both left the café, walking slowly up the street.

"Are you going to fly me - "  Lily stopped, her eyes widening.  "Oh!  But I can Apparate home now, can't I?" 

She beamed, but James was conscious of disappointment.

"I'll fly you home if you like," he offered.

She smiled at him.  "Don't be silly!  It's miles out of your way."

He shrugged.  "I don't mind!"

"But what's the point of me having my licence if I don't use it?"

"Practice?" he suggested.

Lily shook her head, still smiling.  "No, really - you have no idea how bad I am on a broom.  It's a wonder I didn't tip us both off earlier."

"You're not that bad," James told her.  "You're just nervous because you're not used to brooms, aren't you?"

Lily looked at him for a moment. 

"We have a broom just like that one - " she pointed to the Cloudsweeper in his hand, "in our garden shed at home.  We used to use it to brush up leaves in the autumn, and when we were little Petunia and I used to play at being witches and pretend to fly it around the garden."  She saw his expression.  "It didn't really fly, Potter.  It was a game that lots of Muggle girls play.  Then one day I was standing in a field with twenty other children, taking my first flying lesson.  I took one look at the broom and I just _couldn't_ believe that it would really fly."

He smiled.  "So it didn't, did it?"

She rolled her eyes.  "You were there.  You know what happened!"

"Everyone else was four feet in the air and you were still pleading with it to get up."  Yes, he remembered that only too well.  He'd been one of the people laughing himself helpless at the sight.  "And when you did persuade it to hover - "

"I climbed on and fell off the other side."

"So you did."  He managed to keep a straight face.

"It moved," she said, giving him a grim look that was rendered rather less effective by the smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.  "As soon as I tried to sit on it, it moved from under me, and don't you dare say it didn't!"

"It probably did, actually," James said, grinning.  "Those school brooms are the pits.  They're old and damaged and brooms can get moody over time.  You were probably unlucky and got a stroppy one."

"Whatever.  It didn't help me learn to fly."  Lily shrugged.  "It doesn't really matter, it's not like I wanted to be on the Quidditch team, after all, and now I can Apparate …."

"You don't know when it might be useful to be able to fly," James told her.  "It's virtually untrackable, unless someone hexes your broom."  She raised a brow.  "And it's good exercise.  Lots of fresh air."

She shrugged.  "Maybe.  But I don't have a broom, so it's a bit pointless, isn't it?  Besides, I told you; I'm hopeless."

"I could teach you," he offered.  "I have a spare broom you can borrow."

"Oh, Potter - "

 _"James."_

She fell silent, looking doubtful. 

James could smell victory.  "What time do you have to be home by?"

"We have dinner at seven o'clock in the summer," she said a little reluctantly.

" _Loads_ of time.  Come on."  He set off up the Alley.

"But where are we going?"  She had to stretch her legs to keep up with him.

"Home."  He saw her expression as he led her into a side alley and grinned.  He grabbed her hand and pulled her up against him.  "I've seen your house; now you can see mine."

He Disapparated, taking her with him.

Lily let out a shriek when they landed and boxed his ears before he could get out of her way. 

"You idiot, Potter!  Double-apparition is dangerous!"

"Ow!  You're all in one piece, aren't you?  Besides, how did you think we were going to get here?  It was too far to fly and our household wards wouldn't have recognised you anyway if I hadn't brought you in!"

Lily opened her mouth to give him another lashing - and stopped, suddenly aware of her surroundings.  "Oh!  Oh my …."

It was a little Elizabethan-style manor house, with ivy on the walls, roses around the doors and flower beds under the windows crammed tight with riots of plants both magical and Muggle.  They had landed in the middle of a gravel pathway that led right up to a set of ancient stone steps and an arched door that looked considerably older than the rest of the house.

It didn't look remotely Muggle.

"It's called The Rose House," James said in her ear.  "My family have lived here for about four hundred years.  Are you going to come inside?"

He stepped past her, shooting her a grin, and ran up the steps to the door.  Lily followed more slowly, suddenly feeling terribly nervous.  She had never visited a real wizard household before.

"Mind the step," James said casually as he opened the door.  Such a mundane comment seemed bizarre in these surroundings, but when she hesitantly stepped inside Lily was reassured to see that it looked quite ordinary really, with rugs on the stone floor, small tables against the walls, and a wooden settle in a window embrasure.  There was a broom rack behind the door, where James left the Cloudsweeper, and next to it was a perfectly ordinary umbrella stand full of umbrellas and walking sticks.  There was a staircase across the hallway with wide, elaborately carved banister rails, and a passage down the side of it with a number of doorways.

As they crossed the hall, a woman emerged from one of the doors; a tall, slender witch of early middle-age, with dark hair piled high on her head and an upright, commanding bearing.

"James!" she said sharply. 

He smiled ruefully.  "Yes, Mother?"

"Your father and I have warned you before about taking risks with Apparition!  You won't like having to be un-splinched, I assure you, especially if I have to do the un-splinching."  Her eyes flicked over him coolly then moved to Lily, who felt horribly conspicuous in her Muggle clothing.  "And it is _usually_ considered polite to introduce a guest.  Manners maketh man, my son."

Lily would have enjoyed hearing James put in his place by his mother if she hadn't been so nervous.  This wasn't just any wizard household, she remembered.  This was the home of the Potters, one of the foremost pureblood families.

"Of course," James said calmly.  "Mother, this is Lily Evans, one of my yearmates from school.  Lily, may I introduce my mother, Elvira Potter?"

"Delighted," Mrs. Potter said cordially, and shook Lily's hand.  "James's friends are always welcome in our home."  She cast an amused look at her son.  "Even if some of them end by staying for two months.  Where _is_ Sirius?  I haven't seen him for at least a day - he isn't in trouble again, is he?"

"Remus is helping him move some furniture into his flat."  James grinned at his mother.  "I got out of the way - I know when I'm not wanted!"

Judging by Mrs. Potter's amusement there was clearly more to that statement than was obvious, but she made no comment and turned back to Lily.  "Is this prefect business?" she asked, with a smile.  "I recall James saying at breakfast that you are the new Head Girl."

"Er - "  Lily looked at James, unsure what to say.

"No, we've done all that," he answered for her.  "I'm lending Lily a broom - she doesn't have one of her own and those school brooms are like riding a hat-stand."

"I see," his mother said, and Lily got the impression that she really _did_ see.  "Undoubtedly that will involve a lot a showing off in the meadow.  Well, don't keep her standing around outside for too long!  I'm having tea in the library at six and expect you both to join me."

She bestowed a smiling nod on Lily and swept regally away.

"'Showing off in the meadow'?" Lily murmured.

"My mother knows me really well," he said with a grin, but he looked a little embarrassed.  "Come on."  He led the way up the stairs.

The house was surprisingly homey for such an old and noble building.  Lily appreciated the warm tapestries on the walls and simple furnishings.  She was conscious of the portraits all watching her as they passed, though; she was used to that, from school, but not the way the people in them instantly started to gossip about her excitedly.  It was amusing to see how many of the men in those portraits looked just like James, though, complete with sticking-up hair and spectacles.

James led her up two flights of stairs and into a small suite of rooms that were obviously his, judging by the general boy-clutter.  He had a sitting room all of his own, which once again made Lily conscious of the differences between them.  Her family had a little three-bedroomed semi in Muggle suburbia.  James's family had … this. 

"Have a seat," he invited casually, so she perched uneasily on the leather sofa in the middle of the room.  There was a rich, dark blue, woollen robe thrown carelessly across the arm; when she glanced at it she could see a name-tab in the neck: _S. Black._   So Sirius _had_ been here quite recently.  Well, that shouldn't be a surprise.  James Potter and Sirius Black were synonymous with each other, as close as brothers and certainly closer than Sirius was with his own brother.  Not that Lily could blame him for that; Regulus Black was a hateful little snirp.

"What did your mother mean, about your friends staying for two months?" she asked.

"Eh?  Oh, that was Sirius, last year.  He ran away from home - didn't you hear about it?"

She'd heard, but she hadn't quite believed it.  Sirius was always full of tall stories.  "Why did he do that?"

"Because his family are appalling," James said dryly.  He emerged from his bedroom carrying a couple of brooms.  "You know his brother - well, they're all like that, only much worse.  His mother makes your sister seem friendly and open-minded."

"I always got the impression that the Blacks are almost wizard royalty," Lily remarked.

"They'd like you to believe that," replied James scornfully.  "They're all up to their eyebrows in the Dark Arts, though.  Sirius is well off out of it."  He held out one of the brooms.  "This is a Cleansweep - pretty old, but a steady ride and you won't be trying to win races today.  The other one's a Falcon, but I think it might be a bit big for you to handle until you know what you're doing.  I'll ride that one for now."

Lily accepted the Cleansweep very doubtfully, and followed him back down the stairs and out of a side door.  She felt sure she was making a terrible mistake going along with this - in fact, she couldn't think why she was agreeing to it at all - but swept along in Potter's wake, on his home ground, it was hard to say the words that would bring it to a halt.

"All right," James said, when they were standing in the middle of a meadow behind the house.  "Back to basics."  He took the broom from her hand and put it on the grass.  "You're right-handed, aren't you?  Okay.  Stand to the left of the broom, stick your hand out over it and say _up_."

Lily did so, feeling rather foolish.  The broom didn't move.

James gave her a patient look.  "It really can fly, you know.  And it can hear you commanding it, so you need to be a bit more … commanding.  Imagine it's a dog you're telling to sit."

Lily looked at the broom.  She told herself it was stupid to imagine that it was looking back at her.

"Up!"

It quivered but stayed on the ground.

"Maybe you need that prefect voice you used on Sally Klinkerhoff when you caught her hexing Martin Bellows," James suggested.

"UP!" Lily snapped at the broom forcefully.  It shot into the air and smacked against her palm.

James grinned.  "That's more like it!  Now hold it at mounting height and get on."

As he spoke, he released the Falcon to hang in mid-air and mounted up himself.  Lily scrambled onto the Cleansweep - there was no other word for her manoeuvre - and when she was finally settled she was gripping the handle rather tightly, looking convinced that it would kick her off at any moment.

"It won't tip you off," James said patiently.  He was sitting back on his broom with easy balance, not even holding the handle.  "Just relax, and don't grip it too tightly or when you take off it'll move with a jerk.  Now - right foot on the ground and kick off gently."

They commenced a slow, low-level sweep of the meadow.  James was a better teacher than Professor Prenderghast, Lily had to admit.  He was far more patient, taking time to correct her seating and grip and explain _why_ the mistakes she made happened.  He knew quite a lot about the construction of the brooms as well, and Lily found that once she had an idea of what actually made it work, it was easier to accept that it could fly and fly safely.

James coaxed her into flying up to eaves level of the house before they finally had to land.  Lily's legs were shaking just a little when she climbed off the broom, but she felt oddly elated; she had been teased unmercifully for being unable to fly and the belated achievement made up for all the earlier embarrassment she had suffered. 

The fact that James had been one of the ones to tease her originally no longer seemed relevant.

"Next time we'll go a bit higher and further afield," he told her.  "It's pretty safe to fly around here, the nearest village is miles away."

"All right."

It didn't occur to Lily to question that there would be a next time.

They entered the house via the same side door they'd left by and racked the brooms in the hallway, then James led the way to the library.  Lily began to feel nervous again, especially when they entered the book-lined room to discover that his mother was not alone.  With her was a wizard perhaps ten years her senior, with thick, greying black hair and half-moon spectacles, who shot a quizzical glance at James and said, "Elvira, my dear, is _that_ my son?  It's been so long since I last saw him that I hardly recognise him."

Mrs. Potter looked resigned.  "Henry, I do wish you would _try_ to behave, especially when we have guests."

"You saw me at breakfast," James pointed out as the other man got to his feet.  "You know – that meal at the beginning of the day?  Kippers, muffins, coffee?"

"And insolence?"

"Not at _breakfast_ ," James retorted, sounding shocked.  "I haven't woken up enough for insolence at _breakfast._ "

"Debatable!" was the dry reply.

James smirked, but turned to Lily.  "Lily, may I present my father, Henry Potter?  Father, this is Lily Evans, our new Head Girl."

"A pleasure," Mr. Potter said, taking her hand, and Lily found herself being surveyed over the top of his spectacles.  There was a definite imp of mischief in his eyes, but all he said was, "Do come and have tea, Miss Evans, and don't mind the crups."

Since there was only one of the terrier-like creatures panting gently at Mrs. Potter's feet, Lily could only assume that this was a prod at James.  She perched on the edge of the sofa next to the older woman and accepted the delicate china cup and saucer she offered.  The tea was very hot and fragrant, with a hint of jasmine, reminding Lily of the Chelsea blend one of her aunts favoured for afternoon tea.

"Speaking of insolence," Henry Potter said, as he settled back in his chair and received his own cup of tea, "where _is_ that curious individual you insist on calling Mr. Padfoot?"

"He's moving his stuff into his flat," James replied.  "With Moony there he might even do some work, but I wouldn't bet on it."

"What bizarre nicknames you all have for each other," his mother remarked.  "I can't imagine what poor Remus did to deserve being called _Moony_ of all things.  And as for young Peter, it's a wonder he ever speaks to any of you."

James only grinned.  "Peter doesn't mind."

Judging by what she had seen of the four of them, Lily suspected that being called "Wormtail" was the least of Peter Pettigrew's worries.

"And how will being Head Boy affect the dream team?" Mr. Potter asked his son.  "You'll be moving out of the dormitory this year."

For the first time, James's brow furrowed.  "Actually, I thought I might stay put, if McGonagall will let me.  It's not like there isn't plenty of room in our dorm, with only the four of us in there."  He looked at Lily.  "I bet you'll be glad to have a room of your own, though."

"You have no idea," Lily replied wryly.  She looked at Mrs. Potter.  "There are six of us in our dormitory.  It gets so _noisy_ , and Madeleine Arbuthnot is always falling out with Lucy Spiggins over something."

"There were only three of us in my dormitory," replied Mrs. Potter.  "The room was correspondingly smaller, of course, so Mildred Twigg and I had to suffer Proserpina Nott's snoring without relief.  Of course, by second year we were able to cast a Silencing Charm on her curtains, but she made such a fuss about it."

"Sirius snores like an express train," James said.  "He won't admit it, of course, but he does.  Usually when he's lying on his back.  We've got into the habit of waiting for him to go to sleep, then nipping out and stuffing a spare pillow behind his back, so he can't turn over."

"Yes, whoever invented the concept of communal living clearly didn't think it through properly," his father said, amused.  "On the other hand, I'm sure it's character building.  Biscuit, Miss Evans?"

She accepted one from the plate he offered and eyed the crup warily as it moved to sit in front of her.  Crups were known to be vicious towards Muggles, but apparently this one at least recognised the distinction between Muggle and Muggleborn. 

"No begging, Cheron!" Mrs. Potter said sharply.  The crup gave Lily a soulful look.  "Greedy," his mistress observed.  "He's acquired a taste for coconut macaroons," she said to Lily, "thanks to Sirius slipping them to him all last summer.  Don't let that expression fool you!  He'd like you to believe that we never feed him, but he's like a little barrel on legs ...."

"Still keeps the gnomes on the run, though," James remarked, "don't you, Cheron, old chap?"

"There are enough gnomes to keep a dozen Cherons on the run," his mother replied.  She smiled at Lily.  "Does your mother have problems with them in her garden?"

Lily felt herself redden slightly.  "Well, no ... they're not a problem in Muggle gardens."

But neither of James's parents turned a hair.

"Of course not, my dear, what am I thinking?  You probably don't get jarveys either, do you?"

"I have always thought there must be benefits to _not_ having magic," Mr. Potter remarked.

Lily smiled.  "I think my father would quite like it if the wildlife started talking back to him."

James grinned, but his mother shuddered.  "Oh no!  Horrible things ... the only good thing to be said for them is that they keep the gnomes down, but the House-elves will argue with them."

"That reminds me," James said suddenly.  "Which essay did you pull for Care of Magical Creatures over the summer, Lily?"

She grimaced.  "Unicorns.  I'm hoping to get a book in Diagon Alley, because I'm hardly likely to find any of _them_ running around where I live."

"You've got a better chance of that than I have of finding a Manticore."

"If I find one in my study, I'll let you know," his father offered helpfully, as he bit into a biscuit.

"I'd have to report you to the Ministry," his son retorted.  "You don't have a licence to handle dangerous beasts."

"Remind me why you decided to take Care of Magical Creatures at NEWT level?"

James glowered.  "Because two years ago I fancied working with dragons?"

"I'm surprised living in Sirius's pocket didn't cure you of that years ago," his mother remarked, and Lily tried not to choke on her own biscuit.

"No, but meeting his mother did!"

Mr. Potter caught Lily's eye.  "Any rash ambitions you've been forced to give up lately?" he asked her.

She could think of one straight away, but it wasn't something she would dream of saying to James's parents, so she shook her head.  "No, sir.  I know what I want to do when I leave school."

"Which is?"

"I want to be a curse-breaker."  It was an unusual career choice for a witch, but her Charms and Arithmancy marks put it well within her scope; and it sounded exciting, plus she would get to travel.

Mr. Potter's brows went up.  "Ambitious," he applauded.  "You can go far with Gringotts."

"I hope so," Lily said firmly.

He looked at his son and quirked a brow at him.  James quirked one right back at him.

"You can go far with the Montrose Magpies," he pointed out.

"That's my boy," his father said, amused.  "Don't aim low!"

"On the contrary!"  And James mimed putting a Quaffle through a hoop.

The clock on the mantelpiece suddenly began to strike the half-hour and Lily jumped, her eyes going to James.  "Oh!  I'm supposed to be home for seven ...."

He uncoiled himself from his chair.  "I'll take you."

Leave-taking was just as cordial as her arrival, leaving Lily with an excellent impression of the Potters.  Not that she had held any strong views either way before that day, but a general impression of purebloods as a whole had not led her to expect such a welcoming atmosphere from any of the first families.  She would have been even more surprised to discover that the feeling was mutual, James's parents being very well pleased with her.

Out in the hallway, James quickly unracked the two brooms and passed the Cleansweep to Lily.  "No, take it!" he insisted, when she would have protested.  "It's always better to keep a broom nearby if you're planning fly it regularly.  It gets to know you and won't be difficult when you try to ride it after a long gap.  And if you give it a polish now and again, even better."

"Is there anything I shouldn't do?" she asked, resigned.

"Don't keep it near the fireplace.  Heat warps the handle and makes the tail-twigs brittle."

She made a mental note to put it beside her wardrobe, away from the radiator. 

"You know, you really don't have to see me home," she told him, as he ushered her out of the door.  "I'll be fine, now that I can Apparate."

"It's manners, remember?  And that reminds me ...."  James hesitated.  "If you're coming back for more flying lessons – well, it would be easier if you could just Apparate here.  But I'll need to introduce you to the wards."

"If it's a problem – " Lily began, but he shook his head.

"No, it isn't!  But I'll have to nick your finger."

It was a simple process, involving dabbing her blood onto the great ring-handle of the door and James muttering a charm. 

"You'll be able to Apparate in and out now," he explained, as he healed the tiny cut with his wand.  "Just don't try Apparating directly into the house, nobody can do that.  The front driveway's the best place."

"I wouldn't come without an invitation anyway," she assured him.

"I know you wouldn't."  He smiled at her as he led the way down the steps.  "Okay – ready?"

Lily rolled her eyes and Disapparated without waiting for him.

She arrived on the back patio, startling her father very much.

"Good Lord!  Where did you come from?"

"I can Apparate!" she told him, pleased with this successful first journey.

It said something for Mr. Evans's strength of mind that he simply accepted this - as he accepted so many aspects of his younger daughter's life – with little more than a blink. 

James popped into existence a moment later.  "I thought you'd go to those trees down the road!" he said indignantly.

Lily frowned.  "Why would I go there?"

He gave her a look that said, louder than words, _Women!_

Mr. Evans tactfully intervened, saying, "Are these the famous flying broomsticks I've heard so much about?"

"Yes, sir!"  James was always happy to explain his favourite subject and he promptly let the Falcon hang in mid-air to demonstrate.  "These are old models, of course, but this one's not bad for speed or reliability ...."

He probably would have rattled on quite happily for some time had Lily's father not gently mentioned that it was nearly time for dinner.  James flushed slightly at his lapse.  "I'd better be going then."

"Dinner in ten minutes, Lily," Mr. Evans told her, and with a friendly nod to James, he disappeared back into the house, leaving the two of them on the patio.

There was an awkward pause.

"So," James said finally.  "Will you come for more lessons?"

The corner of Lily's mouth quirked.  "Do you really think it's worth it?"

"Yes," he said firmly.  "Okay, you won't be a Quidditch player by the end of the summer, but you can still be a decent flyer.  It just takes practice.  So will you come?"

"All right then."

"Tomorrow afternoon?" he persisted.

She smiled in spite of herself.  "All right."

"Good." 

There was another pause.  James finally grabbed his courage with both hands.

"You never answered my question," he said.

Lily blinked.  "What do you mean?"

He reddened but looked at her steadily.  "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Lily felt herself blushing.  She'd forgotten all about that.  "Oh!  Well …."

James managed a smile.  "It's okay if you don't want to.  I mean, I know I'm a Grade A pillock and an insufferable prat and all that, but ... it was different this afternoon, wasn't it ...."  He let the question trail off.  He hadn't really expected her to say yes anyway.  Not really.

She looked anywhere but at him for a moment.  Then she said shyly, "All right then.  I mean, yes."

"Yes?"  He could hardly believe his ears.  "Yes, you'll go out with me?"

"Yes."  She smiled at his expression.

His grin threatened to crack his face.  "Brilliant!"

When he was gone, Lily wandered indoors rather dazedly.  She hoped it wasn't too obvious that she had just been kissed. 

Her father was in the living room. 

"He's keen on his subject, isn't he?" he remarked.

She hoped he was talking about the brooms.  "Wizards talk about brooms and Quidditch like Muggle men talk about cars and football."

It wasn't until they were all sitting down to dinner and Petunia was making sneering little remarks about James under breath, that Lily realised what she had said to her father.

Muggle men.  _Muggle._  

 _I'm a witch_ , she realised, watching her sister bad-temperedly spooning coleslaw onto her plate.  _I really am a witch.  Not just a person who accidentally happens to have magic, but a_ witch.

And it had taken James Potter of all people to finally show her that.

*

James Apparated into Sirius's new flat and nearly splinched himself on a chest of drawers that should never have been in the narrow entrance hall.  But even a near-miss of this magnitude couldn't quell his exuberance.

"Padfoot!" he roared as he squeezed past the inconvenient furniture.  "Padfoot!"

There were random bits of furniture scattered all over, but it didn't seem like there was anyone about.  James tossed the Falcon onto the sofa in the little living room and looked around.  The bedroom door was shut; he grinned and burst through it, jumping straight into the middle of the queen-sized four-poster.

"Oy!" he crowed happily.

"Bloody hell, Prongs!" Sirius exclaimed.  "Will you just piss off already?"

"What are you doing in bed at this time of the day?"  James pulled the quilt down and discovered not one but two bodies.  Oh.  That explained a lot.  "Don't you two _ever_ stop shagging?"

Amber eyes glared.  "A chance to get _started_ would be a fine thing, with you around," Remus complained.  "Go _away_ , James!"

"No - you've got to listen!  She said yes!"

Sirius groaned and flopped back against the pillows.  "What?"

"Lily - she said yes, she said she'll go out with me!"

"She must be mad," Remus muttered.

"But this is brilliant, don't you see?"  James sat back and finally registered the twin glares he was receiving.  "Oh, fine, be like that!  Miserable gits.  Just because _you're_ all sorted, you have no sympathy for those of us who've lived in a _hell_ of unreciprocated desire for an eternity - "

"Prongs!" Remus exploded savagely.  "If getting off with Lily Evans is going to turn you into a bad poet, I'm going to stick my hand down your throat and rip your bloody vocal chords out myself!"

Taken aback, James looked at Sirius, who raised his brows and grinned.

"Full moon in two days," he reminded his friend.  "He's touchy."

"Oh yeah - forgot about that.  Sorry, Moony."  James scrambled off the bed and grinned at his friends, unabashed.  "Well - don't mind me.  Carry on!"

"How generous of you!" Remus snapped and he pulled the quilt back over his head.

Sirius sat up, though, feeling vaguely that he'd been a bad friend.  "Prongs!  Come back and tell me about it tomorrow afternoon."

James popped his head back around the bedroom door.  "It'll have to be tomorrow morning," he said cheerfully.  "I'm seeing Lily in the afternoon."

Sirius stared at the door in mild pique after his friend had left.  Then he looked down at the Remus-shaped lump under the covers. 

"Have I just been jilted for Lily Evans?" he asked.

"No," was the grumpy response, "but you will be if you don't get back in here in the next five seconds."

 **\- The End -**


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